


Oaths To The Moon Kingdom

by TheBlindBandit



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/F, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-25 19:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2632808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlindBandit/pseuds/TheBlindBandit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Sailor Moon ficlets and drabbles written for all sorts of prompts and requests on Tumblr. Featuring various characters and pairings, but with an Outer Senshi emphasis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Haruka/Michiru

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Haruka/Michiru, "I would happily take care of you forever"  
> Post-S-finale h/c-flavoured fluff, disregarding the existence of most of the mess that is episode 126.

The afternoon sun streaming through the window cast the hotel room in a pleasantly warm orange light. Flickers of it caught in Haruka’s hair as she moved, rummaging around in their luggage and two first aid kits, fumbling with a thousand unnecessary things.

She had yet to raise her eyes and look at Michiru, sitting on the bed surrounded by an ever-growing arsenal of medical supplies, propped up by a veritable pile of pillows. Michiru sighed and turned her gaze outside again, to the rather boring view of a tree-lined parking lot. But boring – boring felt so welcome now. It was strange to think how few were aware of what momentous events had transpired not days ago, how close the world had come to utter destruction. She let her eyes briefly take in a couple slowly walking past with a stroller, a group of laughing students, probably on a school excursion, and the hotel gardener fiddling around with his lawnmower. To say she wasn’t feeling at least a bit envious of their likely painfully ordinary existences would be lying. But then again…

It was a few minutes more before Haruka finally sat down on the bed next to her, and Michiru couldn’t help a wince at the sharp twinge of pain that ran up her arm as the slight bounce of the mattress jostled it. A look of immense contrition immediately spilled over Haruka’s face, and she rushed to fuss over the bandaged limb, fresh gauze and salves in hand.

It was her right arm, true, but Michiru could have managed fine by herself – she’d had enough experience nursing her own wounds, after all, the pain was already abating, and their senshi healing would take care of most of it anyway. But she also knew how important this was to Haruka, how much she needed to know her hands could still do more than destroy and hurt.

Some day, perhaps, the guilt would abate as well.

“What did I tell you about that arm, huh?” It was Haruka, finally breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Michiru smiled wryly. “My violin playing hardly seemed important in the face of the apocalypse.”

The comment didn’t have quite the anticipated effect on Haruka, however.

“Don’t say things like that!” burst out of her, her brows furrowed in anger-tinged concern, and her voice sounding quite openly upset, “We’re… we’re done, right? At least for now. You should – I want you to play, you _have_ to play again.”

Michiru simply looked at her for a few long moments, as Haruka caught her breath and calmed a bit. She felt her surprise at the outburst turn to warm fondness, and she smiled – genuinely, this time.

“I’ll play,” she conceded quietly, “I’ll play for you, first, as soon as I can. You deserve an entire private concert for taking such good care of me.”

She glanced down at the hands between them – tenderly entwined fingers were hardly part of any nursing routine Michiru knew of, but somehow they always ended up this way. Haruka seemed to relax fully, too, the tension that had suddenly and violently spiked up draining from her almost as rapidly.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, Michiru. I’d happily take care of you forever.”

“Oh?”

“Well, yeah. Otherwise who’s gonna take care of me?”

This Haruka was open, and gentle, and as unguarded as Michiru had ever seen her. Making tentative little steps towards something neither of them were quite ready to name yet, instead of building yet more walls around herself.

“Oh, Haruka.”

Her bashful little smile and the vaguely expectant look on her face - with just the slightest amount of confusion mixed in - were probably the most endearing things Michiru had ever seen. She raised her uninjured hand and gently, almost carefully, touched it to the side of Haruka’s face, knowing how skittish she could be during these quiet moments.

“Haruka,” she repeated the name, almost like a reassurance, “don’t run away from me.”

Then she drew her in for a kiss.

It felt something like peace, and something like a second chance, and something like a beginning.


	2. Haruka vs Seiya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Haruka vs Seiya, "You look like shit"

“Hah, so much for the mighty Sailor Uranus. Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed? Ouch. You look like shit.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re not looking too hot yourself, ET.”

“It’s not my fault I have to fight off your share of ‘em, as well as mine! Why not try, you know, _blocking_ with that useless sword of yours?”

“Why not try learning to aim?”

“Ow! Crap, I got hit! We’ve got more important things to fight right now than each other. Shut your big mouth for once and help me take out the one up on the roof. I think it spits acid.”

“Why should I shut up? You gonna Star Serious Entangle me with that ratty ponytail of yours? Or are you asking my useless sword for a quick haircut?”

“Hey, don’t you dare! The fanbase loves it!”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. Ugh, cover me while I go around so we can flank them.”

“Do you ever _not_ look like you fell under a lawnmower and then got on Jupiter’s bad side? I don’t know why Michiru lets herself be seen in public with you.”

“Are you dissing the windswept image? I’ll have you know that Michiru is _very_ appreciative of my- woah, hey, watch out! That was way too close for comfort.”

“Hey, no fair! You stole my kill! How about I take a shot at _you_ , and we see how the princess likes _that_!”

—

The harp concerto wafting from the speakers was gentle and calm enough to be unobtrusive, and just loud enough to drown out the worst of the noise coming from the living room.

“So who came up with this brilliant, er, teambuilding idea?” Rei asked, joining the two already seated in the kitchen, fresh from witnessing the wonder first-hand, “And how did you manage to get them to sit down and play a co-op game, of all things?”

“Oh, it was all Minako,” Michiru answered, elegantly taking a sip of her tea, “She told them the game had a ranking system that tracks each player’s “contribution factor” while they play, and that the medals given out by the princess in the final scene change to reflect the scores.”

“It’s an amazing phenomenon,” Ami piped up, not looking away from the game being streamed to her computer, “I’m recording their gameplay sessions for later study. They’re working perfectly in tandem and achieving incredible results, while continuously insulting each other and threatening sabotage. But the thought of losing the game keeps them from actually trying anything.”

“They’re… putting aside their differences for a couple of virtual medals?”

“I suppose you could put it that way, yes. We were thinking that having them let out steam this way might prevent more violent incidents, like the one during Minako’s birthday party.”

There was a crash from the living room, accompanied by a loud _Oy, you windbag! Wait until I respawn!_

Rei cringed. Ami frowned and started typing furiously. Michiru calmly reached over to turn up the music volume.


	3. Pluto/Queen Serenity

“It has been a while.”

The words are softly spoken but the voice carries – as is its habit - through the otherworldly emptiness, reaching her from somewhere over her left shoulder.

_Fifty four years, five months, six days, three hours, twenty two minutes, and twelve seconds_ is what Pluto doesn’t say.

She inclines her head, instead, and confirms. “Yes it has, my Queen.”

Serenity is resplendent and radiant in her white and silver, the shine as flawless as the woman herself is not. Pluto basks in it, letting the familiar and yearned-for presence wash over her, knowing exactly how soon it would once again be taken away.

_I have missed you so, even though I watch you every single one of your days_ is what she holds back.

“Do you have need of me, Your Majesty?” she asks instead, dutiful and devoted as ever.

“As a matter of fact, I do. There has been some unrest on Earth, and I would like your advice.”

_Would you have come, if there hadn’t been?_ Pluto doesn’t ask, because she knows the answer, and it will never again be the one she longs to hear.

She keeps quiet, instead, and twists her staff to clear a patch of time-heavy mist.

It is all laid out before her eyes, then, like the map of a road with no more branching pathways - the beginning of the end for all of them: the girls she had watched over and witnessed grow into brilliant warriors, their treasured golden princess she herself yearned to protect, and the Queen she had dared to love.

Pluto’s face is stone, and the Queen knows better than to ask her what she sees.

“Proposing an alliance would, I believe, benefit both our worlds, but it is a difficult step,” Serenity explains, almost conversationally, “and convincing the planetary rulers to change their treatment of Earth will not be an easy task.”

_The Palace in ruins, the flash of an Earthling sword, and a sea of silver light._ Pluto says nothing, and watches on.

“Your words carry a great deal of weight, you know,” the Queen places a gentle hand on her shoulder and offers her a smile – a paltry thing, dissipating easily in the chilly atmosphere of the Gates, nothing compared to the beaming warmth she used to bestow, “you’ve become something of a myth.”

_I would rather be a person than a myth, but when was I given a choice?_ Pluto swallows down the bitterness, and tries not to let it spoil the moments she _is_ getting.

She lets the mists fall back into place, instead, and gives her non-answer. “If you want me to endorse your plans so they sway the council more easily, I will do so.”

“Thank you, Pluto,” the smile is wider now, but no less disappointingly lukewarm, and the feather-light touch is gone from Pluto’s shoulder before she can even think to lean into it, “I am glad to have your support, in this and in all things.”

_It won’t help, nothing will help-_ Pluto wants to scream, but she doesn’t, because there is no point. The course has been set.

“Anything for you, my Queen,” she says instead, and knows it to be a lie.


	4. Haruka/Michiru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Haruka/Michiru, "Touch me gently"

Being a sailor senshi definitely had its perks, yes – Haruka could name several, from pretty astounding healing capabilities to the ability to have her hair always, always appear dashingly windswept. But having her fourth date in a row be ruined by a random monster attack, all of them stragglers from some failed invasion or other, was really grinding her gears. Didn't the Dark Society or Empire or whatever they liked to call themselves have days off? It certainly didn't seem like it.

It was supposed to have been a nice, calm day, damn it all! Almost no wind at all, not a single suspicious rustle – and, more importantly, nothing from the sea side of the matter. Michiru had assured her all would be well, and Michiru _knew_ these things.

And yet here they were, back home much earlier in the afternoon than planned, not having tasted a single bite of the probably delicious fare that had been packed in their ill-fated picnic basket, victorious but needing to lick their wounds after what was likely the most embarrassing fight in recent memory.

"I _hate_ needles," Haruka mumbled sullenly, sounding like a petulant five-year-old even to her own ears, her words muffled by the pillow she'd half-buried her face in. She was lying on their bed, naked and sprawled on her stomach, Michiru carefully going over her back and legs with a pair of tweezers and a disinfectant-soaked wad of cotton.

"I know."

"I really, really, really hate needles."

"Haruka, stop squirming. You're making this more difficult than it needs to be."

"Why did there have to be _cactuses_?" Haruka stilled, but continued her pillow-muffled raging, "and who even cares about botanical exhibitions enough to attack them?"

A moment of quiet followed as Haruka's questions remained unanswered. Michiru, who had managed to not land in a thicket of exotic flora and had thus evaded becoming a human pincushion, remained highly focused on her task.

"I hope Usagi is fine," Haruka piped up again, looking for a distraction as Michiru's inspection reached the lower part of her thighs.

"What do you mean? Why would she not be?" Michiru sounded just a tad too innocent, and Haruka felt her hackles rise at the very thought of the scene she'd stumbled on in the concert hall dressing room.

"That- that _Seiya_ , I swear if he laid a hand on her I'll- ow!" she yelped and tried to twitch away from her torturer, as a particularly nasty needle came out with a twist and more than a twinge of pain.

"Oh my, sorry."

"You did that on purpose!"

"I did no such thing!" Michiru sounded almost offended at the implication, and Haruka nodded meekly, feeling her irritation and anger evaporate immediately upon seeing the look on her face.

"There, that was the last one," Michiru sighed and gave the woman laid out before her another once-over, just to make sure. Then, like flipping a switch, her worried and caretaking front was replaced with something far more alluring.

"Now, what was that you were saying in the park?" she wondered aloud, the playfully lilting tone colouring her voice by now very familiar to Haruka, " _Touch me gently_? Was this gentle enough, or did you have something else in mind?"

"I- no- I mean, yes, please."

Michiru's smile widened at the flustered stammering. Her fingers were clever and nimble, but always just slightly cold, even after hours of playing the violin and keeping gloves on during practice breaks. Right now they were small points of cool trailing down Haruka's back, soothing stinging skin and making her shiver slightly.

"Haruka? Forget Seiya Kou."

She did.


	5. Michiru & Setsuna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Michiru, stop."  
> Dealing with the oh-so-joyful events surrounding Happy Outers Family at the end of Stars. This doesn't actually gel with my headcanon of the scene, but I had (horrible, awful, painful) fun with it. Slightly AU but still MAJOR Stars spoilers.

The bracelets were heavy on her wrists, but that just made her swings wider, her blows harder and the contact more satisfying. Pluto never stood a chance.

She looked over to see Uranus was similarly done with Saturn, looming over the girl she had called daughter. Hotaru seemed smaller and frailer than even in her brief previous life, but she kept her head up and glared defiance at her traitorous "Papa".

"Uranus, Neptune. Enough games. Finish them," the cold voice of their merciless new queen rang out through the throne chamber, each beat of it sending a new rush of suggestion through Neptune's mind. She grit her teeth and pressed on, just barely keeping the intrusive, foreign thoughts at bay.

She slowly made her way to where Pluto had fallen, casually stepping over the fragments of the broken Garnet Rod. Her former companion was still on the floor, trying to catch her breath, and preparing to struggle to her feet. She stilled once Neptune was upon her, and instead merely reached out and gently touched the tip of Neptune's shoe, almost in supplication.

"Michiru, stop. Please."

Neptune kicked the offending hand away.

"No," she sneered, and paused, dredging up every last bit of venom for every wrong and every slight Setsuna had ever committed against her, whether real or imagined - everything from dark green hair clogging the shower drain, to the pointless search for the Talismans she and Haruka had never had any hope of finding and that had ended up almost costing them their lives. The merciless pounding of the waves in her head joined all the little honeyed voices in almost, almost making her believe she truly hated the woman at her feet.

"Invoking that name won't buy you any mercy, Setsuna."

Pluto merely bowed her head then, awaiting her fate.

"Now here's a thing I never thought I'd witness!" Galaxia cackled again, sounding like a gleeful spoiled child who found her new toys to be to her liking, "the immortal guardian of time itself begging for mercy, and the avatar of death nothing but a scared, crying child. What an unexpected pleasure this planet has been."

Neptune exchanged another quick glance with Uranus. Their act was very, very convincing, and Galaxia was buying into it all eagerly. It was time to move on, and seal the infernal contract.

She raised her hands, drew on the energy contained in Galaxia's weapons - so dearly paid for - and felt the tug of the Star Seed being ripped from Pluto's chest.

Holding the warm, glimmering, dark red crystal gently between her hands, Neptune kept the small spark of desperate hope from showing in her expression with ease born of years of practice. She felt Galaxia's unimaginable power coursing through her body, a power none could possibly stand against. And as she watched Pluto slowly dissolve into nothing, she replaced the image of garnet eyes, both pleading and accusing, with a vivid imagining of the Golden Queen herself, her Star Seed taken from her by Neptune's own hands, vanishing, never to trouble anyone again.

It was going to work.

—

It didn't.

They faded away, having achieved nothing; together, but just too far to touch.


	6. For Sublime Centuries - Pluto/Serenity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She remembers and wants at least something to last. Setsuna, and the dubious honour of immortality.  
> Originally written for Femslash February 2015.

There wasn’t much to see in her room yet. The walls were bare, and a bed, a dresser, and a simple nightstand made up the entirety of the furniture. She’d only been back among the living for… had it been as much as a fortnight? Three weeks? She hadn’t even had the chance to get accustomed to the feel of the flow of time here, and she felt off in every way possible. Her last visit to Earth had been so very brief and eventful that acclimatisation had been right out of the question, but this time it seemed she was here to stay – a prospect that was as exciting as it was terrifying. 

Setsuna lay on her back on what she assumed was a very comfortable bed, listening to the muffled sounds of the television downstairs. In truth, it had been so long since she’d lain anywhere that she felt she had no reliable frame of reference here, and so she wryly amused herself with the thought that she might judge lying on a wooden plank to be just as cosy.

The orange-tinted late afternoon light slipping in through the blinds of the single window cast a curious set of shadows across the room, and she shut her eyes, letting the afterimages play behind her lids. Setsuna closed her eyes, and Pluto remembered.

-

It had been very sweet, in the beginning.

She’d never had drive nor motive nor occasion to drink, but she supposed this was close to what intoxication felt like - that drinking bubbly and deceptively light Venusian champagne was much like being in Serenity’s company. It seemed ridiculous to Pluto that they could be talking about everything and nothing, about important court policy and about the state of the senior Mauan advisor’s whiskers, and that she could be so thrown by Serenity pausing in the middle of a playful cat joke and doing little more than looking at her.

A queen should look kindly on all her subjects, but Pluto found she liked the thought of the Queen saving glances just for her.

Theirs was the simple joy of company and conversation, of casual touches during strolls down the labyrinthine paths of the royal gardens, and of precious private moments stolen between council meetings.

She remembered leaving for what they both knew would be a long and unusually troubled stay at the Gates with a kiss still tingling on her lips, a token and a promise.

She remembered coming back to the Moon afterwards, and the relief at being permitted to shrug off the loneliness that had always been such a familiar and immutable part of her existence. Being alone had been easy, she supposed, when she hadn’t known anything better.

She remembered not sleeping, but relaxing in a nest of down-filled pillows and tangled covers, daring to reach and place an arm around her Queen’s bare side, clasping an almost reverent hold around her waist when she didn’t stir or show signs of waking. She remembered watching the contrast between her Queen’s cold-seeming silvery colouring and her own dark one in the pale light of the artificial dawn, and loving the unquestionable _realness_ the sense of touch brought to her surroundings as she gently and almost shyly ran a hand through silky hair and down a bare shoulder.

It was a challenge, sometimes, to think of Serenity as anything other than Queen. There was a power imbalance happening there, to be sure, but for the life of her Pluto couldn’t figure out whose side the balance was actually on.

She remembered _looking_ , and the tendrils of time unrolling at her command, as they always did. She couldn’t remember ever having regretted anything more. For all her power, some of which she barely understood herself, and for all her treacherously recurring fears that her power was the only thing Serenity truly wanted and _needed_ of her beyond a fleeting diversion, Pluto had never felt so powerless in her life.

She remembered the sway of lights across the silver-laced crystal ceiling of the Palace’s grand ballroom, and being dragged stumbling into dances she knew, as with most such things she could claim to know, only from watching.

She remembered the shimmer on the quietly lapping waves of the Sea of Serenity afterwards, and the feeling of dipping her aching bare feet into startlingly cold water.

She remembered the shine reflected off the blue planet hanging in the sky, the pale light caught in silver hair.

She remembered the gleam in her Queen’s eyes, and the glow about her, brighter than ever, matching her tinkling laughter as she turned and spoke the words that sent searing yearning lancing through Pluto - _I’m having a daughter_. She remembered clamping down on a treacherous burst of _but why not with me?_ , schooling her features into all-too-familiar impassivity instead and stammering out congratulations, knowing it to be the beginning of the end she’d seen for all of them.

She remembered the little princess, so very easy to love.

She remembered the glint of the moon dust mixed with blood on the swords of the invaders.

And she remembered, in excruciating detail, the long stretch of near-nothing afterwards.

-

She wondered when it had really started, this growing desperation she felt to have _something_ last.

-

Setsuna opened her eyes to face a now-dark room, and generously allowed herself a moment of pause. She shook off the last clinging tendrils of nostalgic reminiscing, and padded downstairs with some vague plans of brewing tea.

The television was still on in the living room, but the two occupants of the sofa were obviously far beyond watching it. Setsuna paused at the doorway for a moment, observing the charmingly domestic scene of her napping housemates. Then she moved to get a blanket and tuck it around them – an easy feat, considering how very thoroughly the two of them were intertwined. She fished the remote out from where it had fallen from Haruka’s grip slowly loosened by oncoming sleep, turned off first the TV, then the lights, and stepped out of the room, whispering a good night for nobody in particular to hear.

Tea forgotten, Setsuna instead made her way across the hallway, to the room they’d just finished decorating in Hotaru’s own pick of pinks and purples. The door opened noiselessly on freshly oiled hinges, and thus the child’s rest wasn’t disturbed.

Hotaru was a calm sleeper, it seemed. Setsuna knelt down next to the small bed, and watched the tiny shifts in Hotaru’s – _her daughter’s_ – expressions, brought on by what she so dearly hoped were pleasant dreams. She gently brushed the dark bangs away from Hotaru’s forehead and glanced outside, where an almost full moon was clearly visible above the roofs of their quiet neighbourhood. The silvery light shining down on both of them felt something like approval, and perhaps even a benediction.

It was time to find new things to remember.


End file.
